The Screamer
by Kalims
Summary: Will's helpless and hopeless against a mysterious attack. The enemy has a new strategy in use . . .


**The Screamer**

Susan had to take a long breath to stop the tears from falling. She sat alone in the living room, the remote in her hand as she was mechanically changing the channels. She couldn't care less about TV right now–even the social programs that Susan used to be so fond with.

Actually, she'd now developed a special dislike toward those specific shows. She had excepted some help from them as they were supposed to be know-all-about-life experts. She was disappointed, or in fact, greatly upset when she didn't find the answer for her question.

What was happening to her daughter?

It was obviously more than teenage drama and exaggerated problems; it was something far more serious. Susan had sought advice from everyone she knew. But nobody had any idea what could have been the cause of Will's condition. Poor girl, she was suffering so much. Recently, she was always tired and sore.

Susan couldn't hold it anymore, tears streamed freely down her face. She, being a woman with pride, didn't like to cry even if she was alone. Plus, she needed to stay strong for her daughter.

The raven haired lady went to the bathroom and washed her face. She stared at the mirror; she looked horrible. The dark circles under her eyes were at least obvious, but truthfully, their deep hollowness was shocking and worrying.

It had been a long time since she've had a good sleep. Susan had decided that she would stay up in case Will needed something. She decided she was going to do her best in comforting her daughter. But what was the matter with Will?

It happened so suddenly. Just on one ordinary night, Susan'd been sleeping when she heard Will screaming from her room. She'd rushed there, and she'd seen her daughter struggling in the sheets and yelling and crying. Susan had immediately waked her up. Will had cried in her arms, and Susan comforted her. She'd said in the redhead's ear that it was just a bad dream, it was just a nightmare.

Well, she'd been so wrong.

It was _just_ a dream. It wasn't _just _a nightmare. It had become a habit, a disease that had stricken her poor teen baby. Just the day after, Susan had woken up on the same sound. Again, she'd found Will sobbing in her bed. She had made the girl a glass of milk and had stayed up with her to make sure she was okay. Will'd been . . . quiet. And even distressed.

She'd been like that ever since.

Susan kept sending her to school. She thought that the normal, daily routine and the friendly faces of her classmates would ease her discomfort. But after three more similar nights, she'd had enough with ignoring the situation. It had accrued to her mind that Will was having some sort of stress, and as a good caring mother, she had asked Will's friends about her daily actions. She had hoped they would tell her what was straining her daughter.

The answers she'd gotten were confused head-shakings and _I really don't know; she was completely okay the day before_s. She wasn't accusing the girls of lying; she just couldn't really believe that Will's best friends didn't know the problem.

Susan sighed. Maybe it had to do with a private, personal concern. She'd told her daughter that she could trust her, and that there was nobody is the whole world that loved her as much as she did; Susan had pleaded her to tell her the problem. Will had said there was none.

Susan did not believe her and she'd kept asking her and pleading her until the eleventh day. It had been obvious that the redhead wouldn't talk to her, and at that point, Susan wasn't going to waste her time on a useless investigation for answers from her girl; she needed to end Will's suffering.

Susan feared the worst. And she'd been up at night to look after Will ever since all solutions failed. She couldn't sleep even if she wanted to, anyway. The teen's condition was getting worse and worse–her screams louder and louder, becoming unbearable to Susan. She even started wetting her bed.

These nights' issues had also effected Will's day. She was always tired, always quiet. Sullen and full of malaise. She was pale because of exhaustion. She, too, had dark circles under her eyes. She sleeps but never peacefully. Susan watched Will as she tried to lay her head down on the couch during the daylight so she can nap quietly for at least an hour. Well, she never managed to. She only was able to keep her eyes close in the night time, and that was when her nightmares start. And Will can't even remember them after she has them.

Her friends came a lot and tried wholeheartedly to help her. They'd stay with her and try to cheer her up, make her giggle. But the redhead was too exhausted to crack a smile. Actually, she preferred to be alone–completely alone and not even with the presence of Susan who sometimes asked permission from her boss to stay home with Will.

Susan wiped her face with a towel as she sighed. Yes, indeed, Will didn't want to be around her friends nor around her; she had created someone to replace them. Maybe it was out of the feeling that nobody understood her, or out of fear or stress–anyway, no matter what the reason was, the redhead had created an imaginary friend.

Well, he was imaginary though Will never admitted it. It was one day when Susan had caught Will actually laughing in her room. Full of joy that her daughter was smiling, Susan'd asked her what was so funny. Will answered that it was Patric, and then she added that he was gone now, but would be back.

At the beginning, Susan didn't give the matter much concern. She thought that Will may have created someone to reach out for, to relate with. Only that, now, it was really becoming a serious issue. It went beyond a simple creation; it was a solid friend in the redhead's life. How many times had Susan heard Will talking to herself in her room, claiming that she was talking to Patric? How many times Will broke a glass, and blamed him?

_"Will, I know you're tired. It's normal to make mistakes, there's no need to bring your imaginary friend into this."_

_"But Mom, I swear to you! Patric is as clumsy as a giraffe. I'm telling you, he did this!"_

Only when she'd asked to see Patric, Will answered that he didn't want to meet her. Susan remembered that argument clearly.

Will turned out to be a big fond of her friend. She always praised him and talked about how much fun he was. It got to the point that the teen was locking herself in her room, asking her Mom not to enter at all. Susan would have been okay with it if it was giving results, but her daughter's screaming was still heard every night. It was inacceptable that Will was isolating herself from everybody just to be with Patric.

That truly worried Susan. She had even presumed there was something psychologically–mentally–wrong with Will. She had tried psychological doctors. Will spent sessions and sessions in their sickening presence as they had worked to find her problem. They'd spent hours and days evaluating her behavior, asking her some God damned questions so they could find the reason behind her condition.

They did come up with a solution, though; they had the guts to actually offer her a psychiatric hospital for Will to reside in. Susan's reaction was yelling in no small voice and almost shoving them out of her house.

Susan breathed in and tried to overcome the deep misery that was currently overwhelming her. She swallowed and was about to put the towel down and get back to the living room when she heard it. The scream that was for so long now making Susan's heart drop to her feet and her body freeze.

A freezing that didn't last for long as Susan immediately went to Will's room. She opened the door but she didn't have the time to turn the lights on. Will was screaming in her bed, kicking and yelling. Her eyes were close shut.

Susan rushed to Will's side. "Will, baby, wake up." She was careful in touching the girl, as she could easily get hit by her daughter's kicking. She shook Will's head, and the redhead instantly responded. She sat up in bed quickly, panting and covered in cold sweat.

"Oh, Will." Susan tried not to cry as she gave her kid a slight hug. "Will, honey, would you like some water?" She asked softly after pulling away.

Will took some time to answer, but eventually she replied, "Y-Yes, please." Susan smiled at her and nodded before leaving the room to bring water.

Will was left alone in the dark. Her heart was racing, even as she tried to slow her breathing. She looked around her with eyes still wide and scared. She just realized that, again, she couldn't remember the nightmare.

Her mother came back with a glass of water. She sat beside the dreadful looking girl on the bed as she gave her the glass. "Drink up, Will." She said as she helped the glass to Will's lips. That was a good thing because she was shaking so bad there was no way Will would have kept the water from spilling without her help.

"Thanks, Mom." The browned eyed teen said wearily. For a moment, there was a silence. Susan was looking at her daughter, while Will was staring at a wall beside her bed, looking more than a little distraught.

"Will," Susan finally found her voice, and she was grateful it wasn't as broken as she felt. "Will, baby girl, I love you." Will slowly shifted her gaze from the wall to her mother. "There is nothing you can't tell me. Please, Will, please. Just tell me what's wrong. What's making you have those nightmares?"

"Oh, Mom," Will looked down. She knew her mother was in terrible pain because of her state. But why wouldn't she just believe her? "I honestly don't know, Mom. It just happened when night when everything was right and perfect. I don't know why I am having those nightmares." She looked back at Susan with pleading eyes, begging for her to understand and believe. But Susan's face was red in sadness, pain, and anger.

"Will, why wouldn't you just tell me? What have you done that you're so scared of telling me? Don't you trust me? Am I not a good mother? D-Do I make you feel uncomfortable or-or . . ."

"No, it's nothing like that!" Will cried out. "Mom, I swear to you, I love you and I would tell you anything. Anything! But I don't know! I don't know what's happening to me. Mom, please believe me. Even Patric says-"

"For God's sake, Will! Stop mentioning Patric as if he's a real person! We both know he's not. We both you made it up because you think no one else understands you."

"But he _is _real!"

"Will," There were tears in Susan's eyes as she stood up. "I'm sorry I can't help you. I'm so sorry."

"Mom," Will whispered as her mother ran hurriedly out of her room and closed the door. When she was alone again, the teen screamed in rage and guilt and pain. She made her mother cry. She made her mother hate her.

She stared at the wall for a while, not knowing what to do. After a while, she groaned and pushed the sheets off of her, "Patric? Patric, I need you." Will called for her friend. She didn't know if he'd respond. He always came whenever he wanted to.

After a while of silence, Will gave up. But suddenly, as she laid her head desperately back on the pillow, she heard him answer, "You called?"

"Patric!" Will almost jumped in joy, despite feeling exhausted. "Oh, Patric, you won't believe what happened." She sat on the edge of her bed, and he stood in front of her. Will noted that he was really tall, but she shook her head as he smiled slyly at her.

"What happened?"

"My Mom . . . She won't believe me! She won't believe that you exist."

"I am sorry, Will. I know what it's like to be misunderstood." He said thoughtfully. The redhead met his gaze steadily, his blue eyes locked with her tired brown ones.

"Patric, can't you please let me introduce her to you? Please, I want her to believe me. I don't want her to hate me." She pleaded.

"Will, you know as much as I do that I cannot show myself to her." He answered her, and she lowered her head. He took one step closer and put a hand on her shoulder. Being the great friend he was, he asked her softly. "Was it as bad as the last time?"

"It was worse." Her voice was watery. She leaned against his touch, and, head still down, she spoke, "What am I having these nightmares, Patric?"

"I don't know, sweetheart. But know that I'll always be by your side to help you go through it." He squeezed her shoulder and she beamed a small smile at him before it slowly faded away and got replaced by a doubtful expression.

"The . . . the girls are good friends, too."

"No, Will." He said firmly. "They might be good girls, but not good friends. I'm the only one who understands you, right? I'm the one who keeps you company. The only one who cheers you up, right?"

"Because you're my best friend." Will looked up at him smiling.

"And so I am." Patric pulled the younger girl into a hug. He held her tightly until she yawned against his chest. "You need to sleep, my darling." He played with her hair before patting her head and stepping back. "You need the rest. Come on, lay down. Nightmares only come to you once every night, true? So you have no excuse to stay up."

Will giggled and then she yawned again. "I won't make up an excuse. I want to sleep." She said as she laid on her back. Patric pulled the covers over her body before he gave her a quick kiss on the forehead.

"Sleep well, my darling."

"See you tomorrow, Patric." Will was soon to drift into a deep slumber. Patric watched her as she silently slept, and then he turned around and opened her closet.

He stepped through the portal inside, and found himself in the throne chamber. He noticed the King's presence, and so he bowed.

"My King,"

"Cedric," Phobos smirked as he turned around. "how is the young Leader? Feeling better, is she?" Cedric met his gaze with equal amusement.

"The nightmares you've been giving her are taking their toll on her, sir. Both her and her mother, it seems."

"Good, good." Phobos chuckled. "I knew this plan would work. No healthy Leader, no one to lead the Guadians, hence, no obstacle in my way."

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><p>"Hello? Dr. Jay?" Susan asked, and after hearing the confirmation from the other line of the phone, she said, "It's about my daughter, Will. The patient who screams at night and has an imaginary friend? Yes, I am Susan. And, Doctor, I'd like to reconsider your suggestion about the psychiatric hospital. It seems that my daughter isn't getting better."<p>

_I won't let you suffer anymore, Will. I'm going to help you. I promise you, baby girl, I'm going to help you._

* * *

><p><strong>A.N: I bet you noticed the lame CedricPatric rhyme, huh? Well, whatever, the name's catchy=)**

**This story is based on big misunderstandings and a sad ending, as you can see^^**

**Hope you enjoyed=)**


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